Man can only become what he is able to consciously imagine, or to 'image forth'.
— Dane Rudhyar, born on this date in 1895
Man can only become what he is able to consciously imagine, or to 'image forth'.
— Dane Rudhyar, born on this date in 1895
From AIDS to climate change, from swine flu to Covid-19, it has been one apocalyptic scenario after another. The irony is that the elites who readily envisage catastrophe think they are showing how seriously they take genuine social and medical challenges, such as Covid-19. In truth, they demonstrate the opposite. They confirm that they have absolved themselves of the reason and focus required for confronting threats to our society. It isn’t their apocalypticism that captures the human urge to solve genuine problems – it is our anti-apocalypticism, our calmness, our insistence that resources and attention be devoted to genuine challenges without disrupting people’s lives or the economic health of our societies.What I don't understand is why they don't see this as Almghty Evolution acting to bring about what they so often seem to want — the end of humanity.
Well, here in Philly, the newly installed archbishop has suspended the celebration of Mass. God forbid we get contaminated by a consecrated host. What a heroic affirmation of faith. I wonder if he'll close shop again during the next flu season.
Man is made by his belief. As he believes, so he is.
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, who died on this date in 1832
My correspondent, a Christian teaching in the International School in Wuhan, had suddenly found herself, willy-nilly, walled in, and, even within the city walls, further enclosed in her own room, looking out through a window, receiving food through a hatch. What could she do but read and pray?
God is an unutterable sigh, planted in the depths of the soul.
— Jean Paul, born on this date in 1763
If GDP seems abstract, consider the human cost. Think about the entrepreneur who has invested his life in his Memphis ribs joint only to see his customers vanish in a week. Or the retail chain of 30 stores that employs hundreds but sees no sales and must shut its doors.
Or the recent graduate with $20,000 in student-loan debt—taken on with the encouragement of politicians—who finds herself laid off from her first job. Perhaps she can return home and live with her parents, but what if they’re laid off too? How do you measure the human cost of these crushed dreams, lives upended, or mental-health damage that result from the orders of federal and state governments?r
Earlier generations understood that institutions anchor our lives. That’s why German children went to school throughout World War II, even when their cities were being reduced to rubble. That’s why Boy Scouts conducted activities during the Spanish flu pandemic and churches were open. We’ve lost this wisdom. In this time of crisis, when our need for these anchors is all the greater, our leaders have deliberately atomized millions of people.
“The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary.”
— H. L. Mencken
Projecting the Diamond Princess mortality rate onto the age structure of the U.S. population, the death rate among people infected with Covid-19 would be 0.125%. But since this estimate is based on extremely thin data — there were just seven deaths among the 700 infected passengers and crew — the real death rate could stretch from five times lower (0.025%) to five times higher (0.625%). It is also possible that some of the passengers who were infected might die later, and that tourists may have different frequencies of chronic diseases — a risk factor for worse outcomes with SARS-CoV-2 infection — than the general population. Adding these extra sources of uncertainty, reasonable estimates for the case fatality ratio in the general U.S. population vary from 0.05% to 1%.
The strongest man in the world is he who stands most alone.
— Henrik Ibsen, born on this date in 1821
I have been very much taken up with caregiving today. Blogging has had to take a back seat.
The poet-critic has been an institution in English literature because usually only an artist has the stubborn animus, the conviction that art should be one way rather than another, that makes for interesting criticism. To write something new is to imply that the writing which already exists is insufficient. Of course, this can never be demonstrably true: there is always already more than enough literature to occupy any reader for a lifetime. Only an artist’s egotism, his certainty that he has something new to offer that the world should not be without, gives him the fruitfully skewed perspective on literature required to see it as deficient. Harold Bloom’s theory of “the anxiety of influence” gave formal statement to this agonistic element in all artistic ambition. “To imagine is to misinterpret,” Bloom writes, which means, among other things, to misinterpret all existing poetry to its own detriment in order to make room for something new
What’s the difference between writing about it and talking about it? Writing about what people seems a logical enough progression to me. But I don’t think Roth was ever long on logic.
Well, we all know how Germany met that challenge.
Projecting the Diamond Princess mortality rate onto the age structure of the U.S. population, the death rate among people infected with Covid-19 would be 0.125%. But since this estimate is based on extremely thin data — there were just seven deaths among the 700 infected passengers and crew — the real death rate could stretch from five times lower (0.025%) to five times higher (0.625%). It is also possible that some of the passengers who were infected might die later, and that tourists may have different frequencies of chronic diseases — a risk factor for worse outcomes with SARS-CoV-2 infection — than the general population. Adding these extra sources of uncertainty, reasonable estimates for the case fatality ratio in the general U.S. population vary from 0.05% to 1%.
One cannot look at the sea without wishing for the wings of a swallow.
— Richard Francis Burton, born on this date in 1821
When people can’t sit around and eat some nuts, something is wrong.
… I am demoralized by the Catholic Church’s response to what Ephraim Radner calls “the Time of the Virus.” Those of us who live in densely populated areas are aware of the intense anxiety and fear that has become pervasive. The massive shutdown of just about everything reflects the spirit of our age, which regards the prospect of death as the supreme evil to be avoided at all costs. St. Paul observed that Christ came to free us from our bondage to sin and death. This does not mean we will not sin or die. It means that we need not live in fear.
I didn't attend boarding school, and I have read only one of these — Decline and Fall — and for some reason never thought of that as being primarily about boarding school. I just thought it was very funny. So, when Brideshead Revisited was on the list of novels I was supposed to read over the summer for a course that fall in the modern novel, that was the first one I chose to read, since I figured it would be funny as hell. I still remember pausing after reading for maybe 45 minutes or so and saying out loud to myself, "This is the saddest book I have ever read." It also turned out to be one of the greatest.
But in all seriousness, this draconian assault on basic information sharing is a calumny against free expression and the abundant need to be honest about the place we’re now heading in. If Zuckerberg has decided to withhold information — especially information that was put together by bona-fide journalists who perform their work with objective standards — then this is, in fact, disastrous to discourse and catastrophic to understanding how the terrible flu is spreading. At the present time, it is essential for us to have the floodgates open. And since 2.5 billion people are now on Facebook trying to make sense of a terrible pandemic, then it seems condign to let them vent in any way they need to.
Utopias now appear much more realizable than one used to think. We are now faced with a different new worry: How to prevent their realization.
— Nikolai Berdyaev, born on this date in 1874
In addition to the low rate of disease incidence (83% didn’t get it), the curious part of Figure 2 for me is that there’s not a whole lot of difference between young and old passengers in terms of how many didn’t get coronavirus. For example, sixty to sixty-nine-year-old passengers stayed healthier than teenagers. And three-quarters of the oldest group, those over eighty, didn’t get the virus. Go figure. Buncha virus resistant old geezers, I guess …
I won't be blogging again until this afternoon, when I get back from shopping in town.
The past is our ultimate privacy; we pile it up, year by year, decade by decade, it stows itself away, with its perverse random recall system.
—Penelope Lively, born on this date in 1933
Me? I'll be out and about as usual. Tomorrow, bright and early, I'll be at the Reading Terminal Market. Should be plenty of chances for infection there. And I'm 78. Of course, I've also been told by the head of family medicine at a university hospital who checked my records that I'm in really good health, and not just for someone my age. But, as Jim Morrison once reminded us, nobody gets out of here alive. But given what the state of the world is likely to be after this establishment power grab, there may not be much left to live for.
Still, I would guess that most of us turn to far more sentimental verse when confronting adversity or seeking comfort. Kipling is much derided, but his oft-quoted poem “If” has inspired generations with its tribute to character and endurance, to the will to “watch the things you gave your life to broken” and then to build them up again “with wornout tools.”Very little poetry of a political nature has any appeal for me. Kenneth Patchen can pull it off, probably because his usually has a humorous edge). Politics is so unpoetic.
Marcus Aurelius has wise words for us: "How ridiculous, and like a stranger is he, who is surprised at any thing which happens in life!" (Marcus Aurelius (translated by Francis Hutcheson and James Moor), Meditations, Book XII, Section 13.) Spring is here. But not for long. Anything is possible.
… Original Prin is concerned with the phenomenon raised by a line from G. K. Chesterton, often misquoted as follows: “When a man stops believing in God he doesn’t then believe in nothing, he believes anything.” What Chesterton actually wrote is even more provocative. In one of the Father Brown stories, the priest-sleuth notes that one dire result of unbelief is not the rise of reason but the proliferation of superstition: “It’s drowning all your old rationalism and scepticism, it’s coming in like a sea; and the name of it is superstition. . . . It’s the first effect of not believing in God that you lose your common sense and can’t see things as they are.”
The single most exciting thing you encounter in government is competence, because it's so rare.
— Daniel Patrick Moynihan, born on this date in 1927
Precautions are one thing, a good thing. Panic is another thing, and a bad one. By all means, wash your hands, be careful when coughing or sneezing, take reasonable precautions. But what we are witnessing now is an access of irrational hysteria whose end is less safety than sanctimoniousness.
I did not know of Alice Dunbar Nelson, but I will be looking into her work now.
Hugh Hefner started publishing installments of his Playboy Philosophy while I was still in college. That was a Jesuit college. But that didn’t the editor of the college newspaper (yours truly) and a classmate (the vice president of student council) from holding a public sent minar about it. That it proved influential can hardly be denied. Whether it rubbed elbows with truth is another question altogether. I had quite a few courses in real philosophy.
Rather than indiscriminately shutting down public events and travel, we should target prevention where it is most needed: in nursing homes and hospitals.
Existence in itself, taken at its least miraculous, is a miracle.
— Rebecca West, who died on this date in 1983
The love of Latin in my case is in good part love for the precision of the language. One cannot guess at the meanings of Latin words, but must know their meanings by their inflections, tenses, genders. The virtue of Latin being a dead language is that the meanings of its words do not change in the way that words in contemporary languages do. No Roman, after all, ever said that at the end of the day he was weaponizing multiple existential threats to ensure a level playing field.I had three years of Latin high school, and one in college (or was it two?). I passed the tests, but never mastered the language. Lately I have been using Duolingo to get reacquainted with it.
Of course, they will continue to inflict on their readers the moronic rantings of Will Bunch, who, if he ever has another idea besides the two or three currently lodged in what passes for his mind, will probably reach for an Excedrin,
Don't listen to the person who has the answers; listen to the person who has the questions.
— Albert Einstein, born on this date in 1879
I don’t remember thinking much of his music, but I’ll give it another listen.
Auden and Kronenberger close their foreword by noting that their field of selection was restricted to “writers belonging to what, for lack of a better term, is called Western civilization.” Doubtless today some half-educated scold would wag a condescending finger at Auden for that last phrase, “Western civilization,” albeit with little sense of what it means. The concept, and even the words, are quickly coming under the ban.But Auden, who knew more and understood better than our contemporary doyens of labored and puerile outrage, has, along with his co-author, a word in season on this topic, too. We might note the qualification already given: “for lack of a better term.” Yes, the term is imprecise. Yes, it is open to misunderstanding. No, we do not have a better one.
Bruce Charlton is a physician and has been a professor of medicine.
Happiness comes, I know, from some spring within a man — from some curious adjustment to life.
— Hugh Walpole, born on this date in 1884
We are So Extremely Far Away - a thousand fold? - from anything significant in terms of global deaths over this many weeks, that the international health crisis is revealed as fake. However, a fake crisis is better - from an Establishment perspective - than a real one; as it can be controlled. Indeed, from the mass media attitude; the decision to make the most of Corvid-19 seems only to have been made in the past couple of weeks, when it became clear that it was not a major global danger.
The cop film quartet covered corrupt cops in New York City, and although I felt the films gave the unfair impression that all New York cops were corrupt, I enjoyed the gritty and otherwise realistic films, two of which — “Serpico” and “Prince of the City” — were based on true stories.
Having spent a couple of years studying scholastic philosophy, which is grounded in Aquinas’s Summa, I found myself wondering while reading this how anyone who considers himself a theist would think as Craig does, because I am of course trained to think of God in terms of his simplicity. Mathematics is true because it reflects the mind of God, as is anything else that is true.
The most ingenious men are now agreed, that [universities] are only nurseries of prejudice, corruption, barbarism, and pedantry.
— George Berkeley, born on this date in 1685
I have to head into Center City early today, but should be back by early afternoon, when I will catch up with blogging.
Only the first was new to me, but they’re all interesting.